


A Father's Gift

by Sda209



Category: Soul Eater
Genre: Birthday, Birthday Presents, Confessions, Family Drama, Father-Daughter Relationship, Forgiveness, Gift Giving, Guilt, Guilty Pleasures, Love/Hate, Misunderstandings, Other, Short Story
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-14
Updated: 2015-07-24
Packaged: 2018-04-09 07:17:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,087
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4339031
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sda209/pseuds/Sda209
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>One sleazy father goes out of his way to bring his daughter the birthday gift—a gift he should have given her himself—she always wanted.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The Gift

Approaching the ashen door, its silent frame staring into his blue eyes, Spirit stopped and breathed a deep sigh.

He could have sworn the very air he breathed was oppressing him. His hands fidgeting in his pockets, Spirit tried to steady his jelly knees to no avail. Spirit's breathes were erratic and inconsistent, and the door itself—oh this damn sadistic piece of wood that seems to enjoy taunting him—still stood in his way.

As a matter of fact, his only daughter's birthday was yesterday. For that occasion, Spirit wanted to gift Maka that book she wanted when he noticed her gawking at her favorite bookstore's window while they were taking one of the few walks he did with her one day. Her love of reading stemmed from Spirit's diligence in wishing to instill good habits and life lessons when she was still quite young, of which he was rather proud of himself. Being a teen father was difficult enough, especially when his wife ordered a divorce and left him and Maka at a young age because of his undying love with women. That constant struggle between committing his entire life to one woman or spending his days going and having sex with other beautiful and ripe young girls is practically consuming his soul (no pun intended, of course): between romance and lust, desire and abstinence, Spirit was caught in the crossfire of it all.

Or is he just trying to delay time to speak with his only daughter?

Spirit still cannot believe that damn cat-girl Blair gave Maka _lingerie_ of all presents. What kind of a father gives his own daughter freakin' _sexy wear and she's fourteen_?! He could understand that with Soul—although, to be honest, Spirit is really not sure if Soul is actually interested in Maka or not—but to think that a father could do that? Unbelievable! When Maka's birthday comes next year, he's going to get her an entire book series that she loves to make up for this travesty. All he has to do is just watch her reactions to the books she browses and wait for the perfect opportunity. That reminds him, why was he still here in the first place-

Oh right, Spirit wanted to apologize to Maka for the misunderstanding.

He looked down to see Maka's real birthday gift hidden in a paper bag from that bookstore—it appears silent like his wooden cousin, and it seems to enjoy taunting him as with said cousin as well.

Come on! Why couldn't he just open the door and get this over with? It's not like if he opens this door Maka will try to murder him or declare war on the entire world. He's letting his anxiety get to him, that's what. If he allows that, then he'll never get to speak with Maka about this misunderstanding that just happened yesterday. Spirit wanted to—no, _needed to_ —clear this up or else Maka will continue to think of him as a lying, cheating womanizing bastard. (As if getting a divorce and being called one by your only daughter isn't enough punishment already.)

Checking his watch, Spirit realized that it was closing to nine o' clock: the time Maka and Soul normally sleep. If he doesn't knock and enter soon...

Spirit ended that train of thought and he took another deep breath for third. He stuck three of his fingers out and counted down from three—if he couldn't enter in on his own accord then this will definitely help.

_Three._

_Two._

_One._

Spirit immediately knocked on the ashen door, finally shattering the silence and getting even with the stupid door. Screw you good-for-nothing rotting door-frame for standing in the way of rebuilding his father-daughter relationship, so take that! Now all he needed to do is wait for a response...

And so five minutes or more passed by wordlessly. No response from the inside. Spirit thought about waiting a few more minutes, but he decided to knock again. Still no response. What if they were deliberately ignoring him? But wait, how would Maka know who it is on the other side of the door? She's bound to respond one way or another unless they were already sleep. That was unlikely too, since Spirit, on his way to their apartment complex, saw the windows were still shining. Were they still eating dinner or just relaxing? Maybe Soul was in Maka's room and those two are merrymaking right under Spirit's nose! That damn Soul Eater taking his Maka away and deflowering her without his or her consent-

Enough with that other train of thought. Spirit didn't want to come off as a creepy father who stalks his own daughter and screws prostitutes and whores. To be fair, however, Spirit has surprisingly done a good job of preserving his virginity until he met Maka's mother. It didn't stop him or his previous "girlfriends" resorting to other…methods, however.

"Hold on, I'm coming!" Upon the third set of knocks, that voice stopped his heart: it was Maka! Spirit's excitement was skyrocketing. Oh, he can finally resolve things with his daughter and-

Wait. Maka still hated him with all of her heart and he should probably run the moment she opens that door.

Man up! It's his daughter Spirit is going to speak with! The cheers of all of the fathers in the world is backing him up (read: Sid and Franken's "supportive" talks) and he's going to clear up this misunderstanding once and for all!

At once the door creaks and Spirit silences himself, adopting a straight and proper posture. Appearances alone can go a long way in impressing people, his father always says. A few heads down Maka peered her head curiously from the crack to see first a black suit then the embarrassed, sheepish smile of his father staring back at her, scratching his neck.

Say something quickly! "G-Good evening, Maka my little darling... H-How was school t-today?"

Maka shut the door. "Go away."

What, already he blew it?! Instantly he shot his foot into the crack, preventing Maka from shutting his one chance to set things right. "W-Wait Maka, I wanted to talk!"

"Talk to me when you're not a sleazy asshole."

Damn that _stung a lot_. Even though Maka is right in that regard—and Spirit, no matter his love for women, _hated_ being called "sleazy"—it is still a painful reminder of Spirit's internal struggles.

He still kept his foot between the door and railing frame. "Maka, just listen to me for once! I want to talk about the birthday present I told Blair to give you from the other day!" Holy hell she was a strong one, but that it is to be expected when she is a student of the EAT courses. Spirit could have sworn Maka was attempting to let the door eat his foot.

All of the sudden, his foot was free. Loosening his grip on the doorknob and frame, Spirit backed off and let Maka fully open the door. Spirit, aside from the adorable pajamas she wore, could see a book in Maka's hand: so she was still reading when he got here. At least it appears she wasn't going to sleep for a bit—Maka's reading habit does tend to get out of control even if she tried to moderate it.

Maka's soulless stare—fury itself masked under an innocent guise—bore into his very soul. Suddenly Spirit sensed that she could tell whether he was lying or not, even though Maka's Soul Perception wasn't advanced enough for something like that. Though, could she could really do something like that?

After a moment of silence and what appears to be careful deliberation passes, Maka said: "What do you want?"

Spirit's heart stopped.

Was this a dream? Is this real? Maka allowing her own father—a sleazy pig who cares naught for his wife or daughter, at least under her perception—into her apartment to talk? He must be dreaming! And yet he knew that, at the same time, this wasn't.

"Papa, stop staring into space and talk. You're wasting my reading time."

Right, right. Spirit always had that nasty habit of daydreaming whenever he's doing…anything, really. Even when flirting with girls or hanging out with them it's still there. He looked around his surroundings as if he knew he was being watched. In a way, Spirit indeed sensed he was being observed by some unknown entity. Perhaps it would be best to take this inside?

"Listen, um, Maka," Spirit began as he put his hands on his hip and looked the other way. "I wanted to talk about that present I ask Blair to give you the other day for your birthday..."

"Yeah, what about it?"

This was the moment of truth. At this point, Spirit had nothing to go back to but his lonely, self-defeating life of banging women and drinking. Since his divorce, Spirit has been doing nothing but visiting Chupacabra's, attending strip clubs, and heading to brothels to relieve his stress. All of them, however, could not block out the thought of his wife. Every girl he talked to, every dancer he saw, hell, even every whore he had sex with: all of them he thought it was his wife he was with. Every girl he conversed with laughed with was his wife; every dancer he watched was his wife performing a private lap dance, and even every whore he bedded with was his wife inviting him to a night of fun.

Spirit felt his heart beating even faster.

He took another deep breath for the umpteenth time—knowing that if he blew this, then it will be all over for him—and, kneeling down to her eye level to combat her soulless stare (of which now turned to genuine curiosity to his delight), Spirit began with a purpose:

"M-Maka, the present you received from me, that wasn't supposed to be it. Listen, I didn't intend to give you lingerie at all. I-I just wanted to give you that book you always wanted to read. I would have bought it myself, but knowing y-you I knew I couldn't show my f-face especially on your birthday, so that's why I had Blair buy the book and give you. I now know better than to trust her after that, but...

"L-Listen," alright, this is the moment of truth! "I-I want to say I'm really sorry Maka! Please, I-I promise I'll make up for this by buying the entire series of whatever book y-you want! I just want to make your b-birthdays something special! I-I know I'm a sleazy and cheating bastard, but I'll never forgive myself if anything went wrong during my little darling's birthday! I-I'm sorry, Maka…so sorry...for everything...

"For not being a loving father when you need it the most...for divorcing with Mama...for all of those false promises of ending my habits...I-I..."

_I want everything to go back to way things were._

Spirit could say everything he wanted, but he could not speak this one simple sentence. That one sentence that _could change everything_ , and yet he knew that things could never go back to the way things were. It was utterly impossible, for he knew that his wife was somewhere traveling the world alone and likely in a middle of a soul-search.

He just realized he was slump and his eyes were wet. Quickly Spirit cleaned his eyes and stood up as tall and proud as he can. However, Spirit lost the dignity to face his daughter, especially after that embarrassing breakdown of his deepest, most inner thoughts. Who could blame Spirit for letting everything out in that one moment?

"Oh…right," Remembering the gift, Spirit picked up the shopping bag and pulled out the fantasy book. Without even looking at her, he just gave her the book and turned around.

What the hell was he doing?! Why is he just turning around and high-tailing it out of there, he's blowing his chance to make things right! "Sorry for wasting your reading time Maka, I'll be leaving you alone now..."

In an instant Spirit sprinted off. He could hear his daughter crying out to him to stop, but he never looked back. Already, he was at the ground floor and on his way home to his one-bedroom apartment, alone. He could feel the lecherous gaze of the cackling crescent moon laughing at him for failing to make it up to Maka. That moon is right: what kind of a father is he if he couldn't even do a proper apology right? He's just some kind of asshole who doesn't deserve his daughter or his wife and should burn in Hell for all of eternity.

Another sleepless night of endless nightmares awaits him, at least.


	2. The Guilt

Maka stood there in her pajamas dumbstruck as she saw her father running off without another word or goodbye. She shouted for him to come back, but he was already descending the stairs by the time she could even call out to him. Words could not describe what just happened when her father broke down in tears in front of her and admitted his sins and guilt, right in front of her.

There was something about that confession that suddenly made Maka so…guilty. Earlier, when Maka saw him standing there she was ready to shut the door on him and leave him out in the cold. Yet he kept insisting he wanted to talk and when he spoke of the birthday present she stopped here and let him speak. At the time Maka was irritated that her father of all people interrupted her reading time. Still, no one can exactly blame her for hating Papa: she went through a divorce and a childhood of cheating and debauchery that it absolutely shattered her perception and trust of men, and Soul's the only reason she can even talk to the opposite sex in the first place.

But now—just now—something was definitely off, and Maka knew it wasn't Spirit at all.

It was her fault. Her fault that despite her father's attempts to reach out to her time and time again she kept pushing him away; her fault that she despised him and spoke ill of him even when he isn't around; her fault that she never loved him back the way he did even through all of that bullshit she threw at him.

Maka sighed as took the plastic bag inside and shut the door. After quickly locking it, she stumbled towards her couch, her legs being so damn shaky like jelly. Suddenly she collapsed on its soft fabric on her bottom and stared into her birthday gift. Slowly—painstakingly slow—Maka reached into the bag and pulled out the book Spirit bought for her. It was a paperback and the latest edition in one of the most critically-acclaimed series of all time.

Blinking her eyes she could feel tears seamlessly rolling down her cheeks before splash-bombing the paper cover.

Now... just now, Papa went through hell to gift her this one book that she always wanted ever since she saw it in stores a week ago. Gazing into the book with both of her hands, Maka grimaced and—with the shake of her head—threw it like a disc on the coffee table, letting it spin around on the polished dark wood until it barely tipped the edge. Maka refused to look at that... book. Her stomach became sick with guilt and her mind spun around with all sorts of subjects she now wanted to speak with to her father.

Calm down, stop, and think. Relax. Maka does have reason to be angry with Papa, and he has every reason to apologize.

But Maka herself also had every reason to forgive and apologize to him as well. She always thought of him as a sleazy bastard ever since the divorce, but now, moments before, she is not even sure she could trust her own view of family and romance anymore. Why Papa, why does he cheat on other women? Why? Is it for the fun of it, because he wants sex, or...?

Maka couldn't even think of the last reason why her father was driven to do this, but she should probably look at the book on her table to see if it's alright...

Slowly but surely, Maka picked up the book and once again inspected it in her hands: the cover depicts the series' heroes embarking on a journey through the land to an ominous-looking castle to fight the evil overlord. What would Maka give in exchange for things to be normal again.

"Papa," Maka said to the book, as if she was speaking to her father himself. "I-I'm sorry, too…I-I know I had every reason to be angry with you and y-you and I-I know that...B-But...B-But...

"I-I want to apologize for e-everything too. F-For b-being more damaging than I-I realize a-and t-trying to put you down like you're s-some d-devil spawn f-from Hell…I-I'm so, so, so sorry too, Papa..."

Maka let her vision blur, for she wanted to let her feelings out and reflect on what happened. There was more to this family and indulgence stuff than she could ever realize, and as far as she knew things could never be the same again. Maka couldn't trust him after all what he had done, nor any guy for the matter since she's still under the impression all men are pigs and sleazy cheaters. (Of which, Maka is slowly starting understand that is not the case.) If she was going to set things right with her father, since he couldn't do it himself...

The road to recovery will be long and difficult, that Maka knew. She didn't became a skilled Meister within a day, neither Soul a skilled Demon Weapon, and she was trying to think of ways to continue this process—her father tried to reach out to her one last time, and though he ran off already fearing the worst perhaps this is the one time that he finally reaches out to Maka since his cheating.

"This is what you really wanted to give me, right?" Maka said to the book as she closed her eyes. "Papa," and she smiled, trying to give her best smile she can muster:

"Thank you for the present, Papa. It's the best birthday gift I can ever ask for."

FIN


End file.
